


Kindred

by Accidentallytechohazardous



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M, Other, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-12 00:33:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13535880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Accidentallytechohazardous/pseuds/Accidentallytechohazardous
Summary: A High Fantasy AU in which Izuru is a druid trying to embark on a journey of self-discovery. On the way, he enters a forbidden forest that is guarded by a legendary Spirit Guardian who historically takes none too kindly to strangers ‘round these parts.-The spirit was famously ill-tempered. In some legends it was even a malicious trickster, which admittedly had Izuru’s curiosity at its peak. Everyone, however, agreed that it was one of the last guardians against the plague of humanity, protecting the nature that was not yet tainted by civilization.





	Kindred

**Author's Note:**

> You'll never believe this, but I took a break from writing fanfiction to write more fanfiction! I've been trying to diversify from simple, romantic one-shots, but sometimes it's nice to do something frivolous and self-indulgent.
> 
> Sidenote: what does a woman have to do to get that good good Renzuru content? I am a pioneer of my people.

The day he left, Izuru cuts his hair with a dagger. Not for any particular reason, except that it felt like the right thing to do. It’s definitely cool, so that’s a good place to start. Nothing quite sets the mood for one’s own self-imposed exile like the glint of a short, silver blade and fluttering blond curls falling to the floor like angel’s feathers. Very poetic, if he did say so himself.

Izuru needed to disappear. Again, the reason isn’t important. The universe has a plan for him, it’s just a matter of Izuru being in the right place at the right time.

 _So why_ , his friends would ask as Izuru packed his things (one journal, one change of clothes, one spare blanket, and a bento lunch box) _Have you decided to leave behind a perfectly comfortable life at the temple? Why are you doing this thing? For Gods’ sakes, why?_

Izuru simply told them what he knew. He was hungry for something- hungry for loneliness, for solitude. He wanted to experience something without having the plan all laid out for him, people constantly fretting over him and telling him what to do.

He stepped out of the temple with his big, frumpy cloak and his backpack, all ready to go. A sudden sheet of rain descended from the sky and hit him like a slap in the face, Rangiku just covered her face with her hand so she didn’t have to see him standing there, soaked and pathetic.

Izuru never said that it was a particularly good plan.

  


It was a well-known fact that the forest is haunted. Or, rather, not ‘haunted’ so much as ‘occupied.’ With the expansion of humanity, there were very few places in the natural world untouched by human hands, and this dense woodland was one of them. It is certainly magic, and certainly well-guarded.

There’s an ancient-looking stone shrine by the entrance to the mouth of the forest, the villagers of the small settlement nearby leave offerings to the mysterious Spirit Beast who ruled over the forest. They left food in order to sedate it’s godly hunger, and so that they will be spared from the wild animals and the forces of nature and lightning storms that have been rumored to occur when the Spirit is displeased.

Izuru stayed at the village inn the first night, owned by a old, old woman who had studied the Spirit’s moods for many years.

“Years ago, a farmer shot a wolf from the woods that had gotten into his chicken coop.” She shook her head of ropey, silver hair, continuing to spoon oatmeal into a bowl that Izuru somewhat pointedly had not finished. “It rained for six months straight. The thunder was deafening.”

 

The spirit was famously ill-tempered. In some legends it was even a malicious trickster, which admittedly had Izuru’s curiosity at its peak. Everyone, however, agreed that it was one of the last guardians against the plague of humanity, protecting the nature that was not yet tainted by civilization.

The shrine was just a head shorter than Izuru himself when he found it, his wiry shadow standing over the shape of stone. The structure was shaped similar to a Fu lion, with thunderbolt patterns etched over its face and limbs in tiger stripes, and a white, open mouth of teeth. And as the body of stone looked worn and porous from exposure to the elements, with vines and moss beginning to slope over the lion’s enormous paws, the fangs inside the mouth glittered like polished, pristine marble.

Realization struck Izuru dully, the shrine was asking for an offering. And though Izuru had nearly made peace with the fact that he would probably one day die from doing something foolish and ill-advised, incurring the wrath of a vengeful nature god seemed a harsh way to go.

 

It sure looked odd, two taiyaki cakes sitting in the open maw of the statue like it was about to chomp down on them in one big bite. The respectful villagers of the surrounding areas probably left fruit, vegetables and prime cuts of meat. But Izuru was no farmer, hopefully the Spirit will let this one slide and enjoy some sweets.

And once Izuru had reorganized himself, he slipped into the dark shadows of the forest to explore it’s secrets. He failed to look back over his shoulder, lest he catch a glimpse of a claw, or grinding teeth annihilating an innocent pastry.

  


Rangiku had once told Izuru that he ought to be more concerned with events around him. That he was the only person she knew who could walk into the middle of the street and narrowly avoid getting run down with a cart, and cross to the other side without even realizing what had happened.

However, as day passed to evening in the woods, Izuru found himself very, _very_ concerned with his surroundings. Fortune favors the bold, but fortune also favors the one who doesn’t trip over his own two feet and break his neck at the bottom of a ravine. Izuru suddenly remembered the old woman’s story about the wolves. His brain is as much an unhelpful traitor as ever.

But there are so many interesting things in the forest! It’s beautiful here, Izuru could look straight up at a clear, and pristine sky through the ceiling of lush, emerald leaves. The stars seemed especially bright, glittering jewel-white, and Izuru wondered if their glow was due to the magical properties of this place.

The view was nearly enough to make him forget the feeling of eyes burning into the back of his head. The creeping sensation that he was being hunted through the underbrush.

When Izuru was sure beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was being followed, he then had to grapple with whether or not trying to catch his follower would be certain death, or just likely death.

“Hello?” Izuru held his knapsack close to his back, eyes trying to pick apart the darkness. “Who’s there?”

Ah, the middle of the night. Izuru has made many bad decisions peripheral to the hours of 12 and 2 AM, this is no new experience. He realized, as he pat down his pockets, that he had not brought any sort of tool to lift the blanket of darkness. Izuru assumed that on his first night the moon would be all he needed to light his way, somehow forgetting that it was a new moon tonight that was all but absent in the sky.

Izuru has a knife strapped to his thigh, completely covered by his coat. He’s not a fighter, but having the element of surprise in his favor usually accounted for a lot. But the forest was unresponsive to him- all he gets is the chorus of crickets chirping and an occasional, distant owl hoot.

Izuru furrowed his brow against the darkness, touching the tip of his tongue to the roof of his mouth in frustration at his own unpreparedness. Of course nobody would answer. There’s no other person out here for many miles.

 

He set up his bedroll beneath the cover of trees, and tentatively the night passed back into the day. Izuru is relieved by the morning sun, mostly because now he has eyes for what he really came here to do.

There’s a wide, healthy stream running through the middle of the forest, vivisecting the northern half from the southern. When Izuru finds it, he feels his heart spark inside his chest, and with bated breath he sat down on his heels near the banks and parses through the soggy, muddy river weeds. The tips of his fingers touch something soft and round.

There’s a reason that human civilization has to be kept at bay. Many of the plants and animals in these forests- in fact most of them, Izuru would be willing to wager- are rare and magical. Some take hundreds of years to grow in these very specific conditions, their natural habitats having been destroyed by human settlements over eons.

This magical forest in particular is infamous for its wide variety of poisons. Izuru tenderly dug his fingers into the damp, cool earth and pulled out the stem of a particularly plump mushroom. He has to be so very careful about how he tampers with this ecosystem.

 _Your hands are not the hands of an artist, my dear_ . Izuru’s former teacher had spoken to him in just such a way. _They are the hands of an alchemist. Or a poisoner._ Izuru’s thin, pale fingers held the stalk of the mushroom aloft to the light. The veins of his hand almost the exact same color of the white, smooth cap with a slight ring of pink about the center. Under the cap lie the soft frills of the fungus’s gills, and within those gills contain millions of incredibly toxic spores just waiting to snuff out a life.

What is Izuru’s destiny? What was he put on this planet to accomplish? Was it to be a poet like is father or to study the arcane secrets like his mother? Are his talents only for causing other people pain and sickness, or is there something less diabolical in his soul after all?

Izuru carefully placed the mushroom into a clear sampling tube, which he then cushioned by wrapping the glass in cloth before placing it into his hip pouch. He will study it later, make his observations and decide of what use the sample can be.  


 

There is a specific difference between predicting the weather and predicting the future. But, admittedly, there is some overlap there as well. Definitely one is more scientific than the other, but there’s a certain level of guesstimation that comes with trying to approximate the results of a hundred simultaneous variables.

Along his way of collecting specimens to study, Izuru gradually noticed the way that the shade of clouds overhead begins to blot out his vision. When he finally glanced up at the overcast sky he’s rewarded by a cold, fat drop of water falling directly up his eyeball.

Izuru pulled the hood of his cloak up over his head just in time for a peal of thunder to roll over the sky, and a sudden sheet of rain to pummel his body.

The rainfall was so heavy that the trees offer no cover, water pounded through the branches and filtering to the muddy, soggy earth. Izuru had no choice but to head towards higher ground, towards the hills and the cliffs of the forest in the hopes that he could find a cave to huddle up in for the night. And, of course, when he did finally find a gash in the side of the rocks that he can comfortable fit in without fear that the cave will collapse overhead, Izuru was already soaked to the bone. Forget any chance of finding dry wood to make a fire that might warm him up

Absolutely splendid.

As Izuru peeled his drenched cloak and backpack off of his body, he had to wonder if this is a punishment. Like the farmer shooting the wolf, perhaps the rain is the forest’s retribution against him for entering sacred ground. He should not have taken that mushroom from the banks. He could not have come here at all. Forget his stupid destiny or his dumb, romantic ideals about finding himself.

Knees pulled up to his chest and a shiver racking his spine, Izuru observed a river of snot dripping down his nose. He doesn’t think that he will die of exposure overnight, but pneumonia seems remarkably likely. Tomorrow, if he has the energy to do so, Izuru will try to skirt around the various poisons of this forest, and rustle up some eucalyptus or some other herb to ward away sickness. Yes, he would definitely find something to do that. He is not going to expire out here in a cave, plastered in a cocoon of rainwater and his own sweat and mucus.

Izuru blew his clogged nose on his dripping shirtsleeve, then pushed his back against the cold cave wall. He tried to will himself not to fall asleep, remembering old legends about people who doze off while they freeze to death. Even with the pounding rain and the shrieking thunder and lightning just outside, his will failed him.  


 

When Izuru woke up, he smelled smoke. And the first thing he thought of with his waking power is that it would be just like his luck for lightning to have struck a tree and started a forest fire. Why should that not be a perfect follow-up to a perfect evening?

The next thing that occured to Izuru is the fact that his clothes aren’t wet. In fact, his traveling cloak is bone dry, and bundled up in his arms under his head like he snuggled up to the warm comfort in his sleep.

The third thing that became apparent to Izuru, as his eyes flutter open and the murky wave of sleep receded from his brain, is that he wasn’t alone in this cave anymore.

It was still raining outside, water dripped around the lip of the cave entrance and grew into puddles on the dirt floor. The fingers of darkness from the outside are bravely battered away by the orange-amber glow from within the cave, where a small pile of try twigs and tinder have been set aflame. It did strike Izuru as curious that someone would be able to find absolutely any dry wood for a fire in this downpour.

 

There was a broad back facing Izuru, hunched over the meager fire so the light cast a long and looming glow around their shadow. Izuru assumed that this person hadn't noticed that he’s awake, so he tried to keep very still. He could feel his breath squirm inside his lungs, his blood roar in his ears.

The stranger stood up, and up, and up. So tall and so broad, elevated even more so by the additional height of twin antlers that scrape against the uneven cave ceiling. The light of the fire catched them like polished obsidian.

Izuru squeezed his eyes shut as the stranger turned, though he could hear the dragging of a long cape against the ground. The heavy footfalls of the antlered stranger coming near him, and finally a rustling around in Izuru’s backpack lying at his side.

When Izuru dared to peek out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a large, clawed hand rummaging around his things, then pulling out a small cloth-wrapped bundle. The wrapping is unpeeled to reveal that third and final taiyaki that Izuru bought a day and a half ago and forgot about when he sacrificed its two siblings to the Spirit’s idol.

The cake was slightly crumpled from being carried around all day, bean paste beginning to seep through the flakey cake shell. Izuru heard a loud, wet sound of smacking lips and the pastry vanished at once.

Lightning cracked in the distance. Somewhere, a wolf howled. Izuru feigned sleep as he felt the eyes of the stranger on his face.

 

“Mm, that was good. It’s been ages since I had red bean taste. Still, you shoulda’ tried chocolate. Future reference.” A dry voice, like ash and flint and tree bark, rasped, along with a noise that Izuru thinks is a tongue licking dry lips. “Now… what t’ do about you…”

Since Izuru would say his ruse was definitely, up he could finally allow himself to slowly open both his eyes. Except, when he had done just that, he couldn’t really parse what he was seeing.

The first thing Izuru saw was red. Not like he was experiencing a sudden wave or rage or anything, but literal red. A mane of deep, blood-red hair descended around the Stranger’s shoulders as they loomed over him. Crimson strands coiled around the base of their antlers, fell in sheets around their face and down their back, nearly glowing in the firelight like the petals of exotic flowers, or the alarming neon of a poisonous animal.

Through the curtain of red hair, Izuru was transfixed by dark, dark eyes. Almond-shaped, standing out from underneath black patterns of stripes spreading over the stranger’s brow, and accompanied by a wide mouth of white teeth stretched in a sharp, deadly grin.

Izuru felt his heart climb into his throat. He felt his bones disintegrate inside his skin and nerves shot to hell. He could have been terrified or enchanted. But, most likely, he was both.

“You are a long way from home, little thing.” The Spirit of the Forest spoke through glistening fangs. With one long-clawed finger they tapped the center of Izuru’s chest, and the blond man wondered if the Spirit could see in and through him, pinning him to the rocks at his back like a dissection table. “Don’t you know? The forest is dangerous, and full of terrors.”

“I’m not-” Izuru began to speak, realized his mouth is devastatingly dry, then swallowed. What he wanted to say was ‘I’m not your enemy’. What he said instead was, “I’m not afraid.”

“Hmmm? Then you really don’t know anything.”

 

The Spirit put their hands on their knees and braced themself before standing up, again scratching the stone ceiling with the jagged edge of their antlers almost absently. Izuru watched as they stood at the open mouth of the cave, where the water was beginning to trickle from the outside in, and placed their claws on the edge of the rocks. At once, the water retreated, each droplet scattering outward like minnows and leaving the cave dry as dust.

“Humans come to this place all the time. They want to learn it’s secrets, or they want me to teach them my magic. None of them have been successful.” Turning their head halfway, the Spirit angled that smug, knowing smile at Izuru once more. Izuru, who had not had great experiences with people who grin often before, couldn’t help but sense something malicious in that flash of fangs. “They didn’t have what it takes. So, what are you? Do you want me t’ believe you’re special or something?”

Now, Izuru did know when he’s been challenged. Or even ‘hazed’, as the hip youth might phrase it. The little indignation and humility he had left sparked inside his belly. Izuru placed his palms against the dirt floor so he could straighten his back, frowning stubbornly at the spirit. “I do know things.”

For future reference, Izuru does not condone arguing with an infamously temperamental nature spirit as a surefire method of solving one’s problems.

“I know things.” Izuru forced some courage into his voice, at least enough to make the Spirit’s brows rise under their curtain of hair. “I know that you’re the Spirit of the Forest, the patron deity of this place. I know the legends say that you can control plants, animals, the weather, even elements…”

Granted, Izuru hadn’t expected this encounter to literally happen, and he cursed himself for not doing more research on this particular spirit. Research on deities are always spotty at best, and he feared that the more detailed he became, the more wrong he’d be.

“... I know that the locals call you ‘Abarai’, derived from the name of a kind of tree that grows in the East. The legends say that a sapling of that tree was taken and transplanted here. It took root, and the forest grew around it, and that’s where the source of your power is from.”

The Nature Spirit halted stiffy, craned their head to look down their chin at Izuru still sitting in the dirt. Their grin had vanished, but for some reason Izuru still suspected they would either snarl at him or laugh at him. Izuru has never met a god before, but don’t the myths always say that they’re very prideful?

“You sound awful sure of yourself, kid. I wonder what it’ll be like to know that almost exactly half of what you just said was totally wrong?” The Spirit huffed, somewhat dejectedly, through their nose. “You’re well-read, I’ll give ya’ that. But that book-knowledge doesn’t do you much good in the real world.”

The way they say ‘real world’ reminded Izuru weirdly of a school teacher lecturing a student. Izuru feet slightly ashamed, but more than that, defiant.

Something to that extent must have shown on his face, because the Spirit’s lips quirked up in a smirk. They turned to face Izuru fully, putting one hand on their hip while the other scratched their strong chin with a long claw. “Then again, you could still be somethin’. That’s the one good thing about humans- they’re nice and pliable. And you’ve got that thing. The… ahh, I forget the term that humans use for it.” The spirit snapped their fingers idly, looking distracted. “When you do things that are kinda bold and dangerous?”

“Bravery?” Izuru suggested, raising an eyebrow.

“No, no. Guts. You’re gutsy.” The Spirit of the Forest beamed proudly, the whites of their eyes glitter in the firelight like perfect, white teeth. Their features are strong, and narrow, and wolfish, and handsome. They shine like the flames of a forest fire, like a bolt of lightning.

“You oughta get some sleep, Little Thing. You had a big day, and this is the last time I let you off the hook when you’re freezing like a drowned rat.”

Izuru opened his mouth to argue, but in an instant the Spirit has their fingertip pressed to Izuru’s forehead and he is out like a light.

  


 

“I’ve brought you something.”

Izuru had been in the middle of updating his journal, which was really less of an actual journal and more a collection of detailed observations that were recorded for his own aesthetic pleasure. Regardless of what his teacher said or what his hands are, Izuru was once a poet like his dad before him. An artist, subject to moods.

Notebook spread on his lap, Izuru grappled with what the appropriate way to describe a powerful divine entity. Was ‘smoldering’ perhaps too subjective? But it was just as Izuru was pondering the sharp edge of those white teeth and the distinctive, strong bridge of that nose that Abarai’s face appeared before Izuru, looking very pleased with themself.

Abarai smiled proudly, holding out with both hands the bundle of vibrant yellow flowers with their petals opened up wide like stars. “Look!”

“Daffodils?” In his surprise, Izuru allowed the flowers to be deposited into own arms. They smelled sweet like spring, and Izuru stifled a loud, ungraceful sneeze. “They’re beautiful. Thank you-”

“Poisonous.” Abarai’s large fingers held up the green, lush stem of one of the flowers like a calligraphy pen, turning it in their wrist to show Izuru the swollen bulb connected to the flower by the root. “Narcissus look pretty, but they contain extremely potent alkaloids. Most of it is stored in the bulb, but what’s interesting about them is that eating any part’ll lay you up with vomiting, cramps, etcetera- and that’s if yer lucky!”

Their smile is bright and sunny, Izuru wondered if this was in fact the same being who berated him so soundly that previous night in the save. The nature spirit plopped themself down next to Izuru, and arched their back and their neck that they can be at eye-level with him.

“I saw you take the toxic mushrooms from the bank the other day. You study poisons, don’t you?”

Izuru’s journal had tumbled out of his lap and onto the wet grass, his arms still full of flowers. Suddenly that sweet scent wasn’t as relaxing as it was before. “Well, not specifically…” Why did he feel nervous, like he’s afraid of hurting the Spirit’s feelings? It did seem rude of him to deny a gift after Abarai was so enthusiastic in their delivery. “But I’ve been told I have something of a natural talent with chemistry and making poisons.”

“Oh yeah?” Abarai’s dark brows rose, they sat back on their haunches. In the plain light of day, Izuru could see the way sunlight glints copper off of the Spirit’s long, red hair, catches the strands woven around their antlers like spider-webbing. “Animals develop poisonous features to compensate for other weakness. Because they’re small, or can’t protect themselves, they use poisonous skin or venomous fangs to keep predators away.”

No, Izuru didn’t miss the fact that Abarai suggested that he’s ‘compensating’, thank you very much. Izuru frowned and twists the daffodil stems in his hands. “Strong words from a nature spirit. If you could be killed by poison, maybe you’d speak a little differently to me.”

“Ha!” The Spirit cackled a high, raspy laugh. Their arms fold over their belly as they double over, and Izuru gets the impression that this particular Nature Spirit hasn’t had meaningful conversation with anything except beetles and crows in a long, long time. “Maybe so, but we’ll never need t’ find out, will we?”

“For a Spirit of Nature, you’re pretty arrogant. Are you sure you’ve never been human?” Izuru asked, suddenly critical in his mood. His eyes rolled up and down the Spirit once more, and without thinking his hand rises to hover over their wide chest. His fingers spread and the tips of his nails gently press through the thick fabric of the Spirit’s cloak. “You look human-like. It’s kind of odd that a Spirit who rejects humanity would walk upright on two legs and speak the language of people.”

To his surprise, Abarai recoiled from his touch- not dramatically, but just a little bit. Izuru might have missed it if he weren’t paying attention. But he had, and he felt the chest under his hand move as if holding in a breath. “Heh. You meet a lot of humans with antlers and tiger stripes?”

“No, I suppose not.” Izuru admitted, and he drew his hand back. It fell to his own chest, wrapped in a fist, as if that would keep it from wandering off anymore. “At any rate, didn’t you say that you would teach me things? Secrets about the forest and such. You made a very compelling case for your expertise before.”

“Yeah, yeah. Relax. I’m getting there.” Abarai unfolded themself from their seated position. Izuru can’t help but be curious if the Spirit’s body that he saw rise up next to him is merely an illusion, or something much more personal. Does Abarai feel the sizeable weight of their own body held up on long legs, feel the effort of their spine unrolling to stand up tall and straight? Or is it all as effortless as it looked? “You still haven’t proven your worth yet to me, after all..”

 

Over the next several weeks, Abarai showed Izuru around the forest. They pointed out landmarks for Izuru to memorize or urged him to explore things on his own.

They are not, Izuru is chagrined to admit, perhaps the best teacher. Failure on Izuru’s part earned him a solid scolding from the Nature Spirit, and it usually surrounded the theme of him simply not trying hard enough.

“You’re holding back.” Was a phrase that Abarai liked to employ a lot when Izuru didn’t meet their standards. “That’s fine an’ dandy for the world of humans, but not here.” Izuru didn’t want to argue about it, even though the process was frustrating.

But Izuru was learning. And he was, he supposed, improving. Things like exploring this forest and knowing every inch of it must come naturally to Abarai, Izuru should appreciate that they had the patience to take him along.

And there is so much to see.

 

“I want to show you something.”

Abarai’s clawed hand tore back the low-hanging branch of a lush tree, bringing both themself and Izuru out into a remote clearing. There, Izuru watched a crystalline stream descend from a tall waterfall onto the slick, black rocks below. Sunlight deposited itself directly onto the water, making it glint in waves of vibrant, sapphire blue and ethereal, golden white in the blink of an eye.

The waterfall rushed down to join a perfect circle of a pond, set in the grass as neatly as if a giant had taken an enormous cookie-cutter to the earth and stamped out a big ol’ slice. It was as round and shining as the face of the moon.

Izuru felt he already had an idea about where this is going. “It’s something underneath the water, right?”

Abarai actually looked surprised at that, turning back to look at Izuru under raised eyebrows as they begin to unto the class of their cloak. “How’d you know that?”

Yellow daffodils bloomed in the eye of Izuru’s mind. “You’ve shown me a lot of beautiful things recently, but you never show them to me just because they’re beautiful. There’s always some trick or secret to them.”

“Huh.” Abarai’s eyes looked into space, the lines of their face furrowing thoughtfully. “I never actually thought of it that way. Meh, maybe you just have a strange idea about what makes things pretty. Did you think of that, smart guy?”

“Oh, never.” As the Spirit turned away from Izuru to regard the pond once more, Izuru privately allowed his eyes to scan Abarai’s profile. Abarai raised his hands to the collar of their cloak, and sleeves rolled down to the shoulder to expose large, powerful arms that Izuru certainly couldn’t help but notice. For less than a second, Izuru allowed himself a private smirk.

 

Then, Abarai finished undoing their cloak, and the curtain of fabric slid weightlessly from their wide shoulders and down supple hips to fall in a rumpled pile around the Nature Spirit’s ankles, and Izuru felt himself gripped by an emotion so intense and shocked that he could only imagine it was shared by woodland deer when they are staring down the sights of the hunter at point blank.

It was more the instinct of politeness than anything that moved Izuru’s fingers to cover his eyes (though he definitely left gaps through which to see.) The black markings stood out against Abarai’s back, tracing their muscles and flanking their sides all the way across the length of them. “I didn’t- I hadn’t realized you weren’t wearing anything under that…”

“Whatcha’ mean?” Abarai turned to face Izuru, and as the Spirit’s front came into view Izuru found himself burning. But if the nature spirit noticed Izuru’s sudden shyness, they were certainly putting on a good show of being nonplussed about it.

“Uh…” Izuru suddenly found himself at a great risk of stammering. The longer that he was unable to answer, the more Abarai seemed to scrutinize him. They brushed their long strands of crimson hair over their shoulders, staring Izuru down intensely under dark lashes. The irony of the situation has not escaped Izuru- as amazing and stunning this encounter is, Izuru is surely too stupid to be allowed to survive it.“Forget it. It’s nothing.”

“Fine. Come on, then.”

The Spirit wasted no time stepping into the pool of water, walking out from the shallow edge to the deeper center. Izuru noted the water was surprisingly deep, rushing up to Abarai’s waist in very little time. It lapped at their skin, soaking and clinging to their curtain of hair in errant droplets.

Abarai turned to Izuru a second time, now with an impatient edge to their voice. They were getting antsy. “What’s wrong now?” A long arm gestured towards Izuru still rooted in the grass. “You can swim, yeah?”

Well. Truly, what choice did Izuru have?

Shoving aside his own silly, fluttery emotions, Izuru quickly shucked off his own coat and began yanking his shirt up over his head.

 

As he undressed Izuru heard Abarai entertain themself by blowing bubbles in the still water while Izuru set aside his boots, trousers and underclothes. He sort of wanted to hide them away, or at least fold them up so they wouldn’t be a nesting place for insects or small animals when he went to get dressed again, but at this pace Izuru really didn’t want to keep Abarai waiting much longer.

He came into the water at a jog, sloshing ungracefully into the deeper end of the pond. Izuru was a good deal shorter than Abarai, and by the time that he had waded out to where the redheaded spirit was, Izuru was already treading water to keep his head and shoulders up. His toes barely touched the soft, silty mud. Abarai smiled broadly as Izuru finally caught up to them, loose strands of bright red locks floating on the top of the water

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” Izuru’s legs kicked underneath him to stay buoyant. The air was hot and humid and the water was shockingly cold. Izuru couldn’t remember the last time he went swimming, even as his legs worked in and around the water like second nature. “What are we looking for.”

“Underneath.” Abarai said cryptically. There was a rosy, lively glow in their cheeks, and Izuru still didn’t understand how that could work for a being whose physical body was likely a construct. “This pool connects to an underwater cave beneath the waterfall. There’s an opening from the mountainside, but unless you can turn into a bug you won’t be able to fit through.”

“I can’t turn into a bug.”

“I didn’t get my hopes up.” Abarai assured him. “Even if you could, this is the fastest way. Just follow after me.”

Abarai reached out his hands, and Izuru took them. He let himself be pulled deeper into the water until he could no longer find any sign of the earth underneath his kicking feet. And then, taking their hands back from Izuru’s, the Spirit of the Forest plunged their arms into the water and dove beneath.

Without even a moment’s hesitation, Izuru followed suit.

 

It had, as mentioned before, been a long time since Izuru went swimming. He didn’t so much have a form or any kind of elegant method to his movements as much as he was scrambling his arms and legs in a desperate struggle against his own buoyant body trying to drag itself back up to the surface.

The water was dark and murky. Izuru’s eyes stung with whatever dirt or debris was swirling in the water. His lungs cramped painfully, he had never been much good at holding his breath and he would soon fulfill that trend yet again. He needed to go back and get air.

Then, a flash of red. Abarai’s hair spread out and tangled in the water like a web of blood, and in the center the flashing white of their grin.

Izuru felt hands on his cheeks, caressing his face. Abarai’s palms radiated power, and more than that they radiate warmth. Izuru allowed himself to be pulled in to Abarai’s embrace, a set of soft and eager lips pressed against his own. Everything was weightless, lightless, soundless. Izuru didn’t even care that he was going to drown here because he was too busy kissing a Nature Spirit to worry about trivial matters like oxygen.

And then, something passed from Abarai’s mouth into Izuru’s. He thought, at first, that it may have been a tongue, but in that regard he was disappointed.

As Abarai pulled away, water rushed into Izuru’s open mouth and nose. He expected it to fill his lungs, to weigh him down and smother the life out of him. But the pain of suffocation never came. Izuru exhaled- somehow- and then inhaled- somehow. He was still breathing, no pain required.

Izuru blunk hard, and gradually the water became clear. Like it had suddenly gone from night to day, Izuru could see the bright green of the algae on the rocks and the metallic sheen of the scales of pond fish weaving through the currents, and the mischievous smile of Abarai floating in front of Izuru like the enchanting mermaids in fairy tales.

Izuru’s hands felt at his throat, and he was somehow both relieved and disappointed to find an absence of gills. There was no time to contemplate that, however, because Abarai was again tugging at Izuru’s hands and urging him to follow deeper under the water.

 

It was nothing short of amazing to see the bottom of this undersea ecosystem, Izuru looking upwards to catch a family of turtles paddle across the surface of the pond from the bottom so their round shadows passed over his face. But it was far more fascinating to follow Abarai, who cut through the water expertly on their way down to the bottom. Their speed was probably a boon of being spiritually linked with this location, but Izuru would imagine that Abarai’s physical abilities were nothing to sniff at either. If they were human, they definitely could be an athlete or something.

When Izuru could see the bottom of the pool, Abarai looked back to make sure he was still following, then pointed towards a gap in a wall of stone and earth. Izuru had the good sense in his stupor to remember that they were seeking an underground cave, and he swam after Abarai as the later dove into the darkness.

It got dark, and cold. It didn’t feel like summer anymore. Izuru felt his fingers and toes turn numb. He reached out in the darkness, grasping with outstretched hands, and Abarai’s fingers wrapped around his wrist. With one solid pull, they yanked him up and out of the water like a fish on a hook.

Izuru then proceeded to violently and unbeautifully spew water from his nose and mouth, coughing as Abarai gave him a mild pounding on the back.

“Sorry, sorry about this!” The Spirit said, actually sounding sincerely regretful. “I had an idea of how it would work, but I’ve never actually done anything like that with a human before. Can you breath okay now?”

“I’m okay, thank you.” Izuru wiped dripping snot and saliva from his face with the inside of his elbow. “That just surprised me is all.”

“You’re okay.” Abarai’s fingers combed back Izuru’s wet hair with surprising tenderness. It gratefully gave Izuru a moment to regain his bearings.

 

He thought for a moment that they might be back on the surface. He saw Abarai, brown eyes peering at him from under a mass of wet hair plastered to their face and neck. And he saw, past them, a great, looming blackness, with many small, white lights. It looked to him like a perfectly clear night sky full of stars.

Except the sky wasn’t a sky, so then neither were the stars truly stars. Izuru’s eyes adjusted, and he realized that the limit of his vision was in fact a low cave ceiling.

“What are… what’s glowing up there?”

“Crystals.” Abarai answered, following Izuru’s gaze upwards. “Extremely rare. Very powerful. When there were other spiritual creatures here, they came to this cave to read the future in the crystals’ patterns.”

That jarred Izuru, and he looked back down to Abarai. “There are other spirits? Like you, Abarai?”

“No.” Abarai’s eyes, looking upwards, were suddenly very far away. “There are none like me.”

That statement sat in the air for a good, long time, hanging heavily. Water took its time dripping off of Izuru’s body, off of his hair and down the column of his neck. It crawled down his skin and finally hit the stone floor under his folded legs. Abarai’s hair shimmered a mystical purple in the blue light.

When Abarai finally broke the silence, it shattered around their feet. “Why do you call me that?”

Izuru folded his hands into his lap. The fact that he’s still extremely naked has not escaped him. “I’m sorry?”

“Abarai.” They said. The Spirit’s hand drifts up to touch the base of their antlers, so softly and slowly Izuru thinks it might be subconscious. “That’s your name for me.”

“That’s what people call you, isn’t it? From the, uh… the story with the tree.” Izuru tried, recalling faintly how Abarai implied that his preconceived notions about the spirit may or may not be incorrect.

“Yes. Sometimes. I have several names. So many I guess I don’t know which is the right one.” They raised their hand up to the ceiling, fingers splayed. The light from the crystals casts a long shadow across their face. “My first name was Renji. The first person I ever met gave it to me.”

“Renji.” Izuru repeated it back, tastes it on his tongue. Feels it in and around his mouth, the rumbling ‘R’ and the sharp ‘ji’. A smile traces Izuru’s lips. “I like it.”

“Yeah? I don’t. I always thought it sounded too human.”

The ground around them trembled slightly- not like an earthquake, but slowly. Shifting, like a breath. The ceiling of the cave with its stalactites swells to meet Renji’s touch, reaching for them at the same time they reach for it. The blue light intensified.

“‘Ren’, for passionate love.” Izuru stated, watching the earth curl around Renji like an eager cat cozying up to its master. The look on the Spirit’s face is so striking, shadows dripping down their brow and rolling off their cheek as the crystals’ lights spoke to them. “You’re too critical. It’s a lovely name. It’s romantic.”

“Passion is a human idea. I don’t know if it’s something I’m supposed to even understand as a Spirit. It’s hard for me to explain. It’s like…” They smile, suddenly, eyes crinkling into half-moons. Renji looks at Izuru and gestures towards a great, big something.

“I wish you could see the things that I see, Izuru! Things… they interlock. Events parallel each other across time and space. All things pushing and pulling and tumbling each other into one direction. This world is a living organism, and it’s constantly learning and growing. Everything is a piece in its ecosystem. A blood cell in its body.”

Renji’s voice was lit up with excitement, it pulled Izuru in and he felt a hunger that he felt when he first left his temple to come to the forest. A great need to explore the un-explorable. To find something secret and sacred and understand it down to the bones.

“Even humans are part of nature. But they’re noisy and unreliable and sometimes they scare me.” As quickly and rapturously as it had appeared, Renji’s smile faded. They frown, eyes drawn to a corner as if to hide. “When I watched them hurt each other and their world, for some reason it was painful to me, too. I didn’t understand it. I wasn’t actually the one getting hurt. Why did it feel like I was also the one who was in pain?”

Renji’s hands find each other. They clench, long nails digging into skin, leaving behind red marks. “I don’t understand why I need to have feelings like that. I think I have these intense emotions and thoughts all the time, and they don’t serve any purpose except to make me do stupid things and feel bad. I know I’m connected to the universe, but I don’t know whether I’m a person or a place or a thing.”

Izuru’s fingers curled around Renji’s wrist, and he held them up to his own chest. He noted that Renji had a heartbeat, and he could feel it in their pulse-point. “Renji, you’re amazing! You can do so many things and you know so many things.” Renji’s hands smelled like rain and clean dirt. Like fresh air and ripe apples. “Maybe… could it be that it doesn’t really matter so much what you are, as much as what you do?”

Renji actually looked taken aback. Their hands trembled in Izuru’s hands, then they twist to squeeze his fingers in return. Izuru reminded himself that this could very well be the longest conversation Renji had ever had with a human person.

“Heh. I’m glad that you were gutsy.” Then the tension broke. Renji barked a dry, but not insincere, laugh. The shine of their teeth returned as their smile lit up the cave once more. Izuru loved the way hair fell in their face as Renji cocked their head. “You’re a very strange young man.”

Izuru smiled back.

 

Izuru was not a deity. He couldn’t always understand Renji, no matter how hard he tried. And vice versa, Izuru was sure there were certain parts of his fickle human state that perplexed Renji, even if they pretended otherwise.

He doesn’t care. Eventually he became familiar with the smells and the sounds of nature constantly humming around him. Renji noted that Izuru had acquired thick black lines of soil underneath his nails, that he had started to smell like wild rose and mint.

The other times that they went swimming together, Izuru did not hesitate about joining Renji in the water.  
  


“But do you _reeeeeeeeally_ have to go?”

“I know, I know. But it will only be for a few days.” Izuru soothed the best he could while also untangling himself from long arms trying to wind themselves around his waist, anchoring him to Renji’s stubborn form. “I need supplies. And to visit Rangiku, to let her know I’m okay. And if I don’t go into town every once in a while, who will bring you back taiyaki?”

Renji’s hot breath tickled Izuru’s ear, he could tell those lips pressed against the back of his neck were sealed in a stubborn pout.

“The rest of the world doesn’t deserve you. You have to stay here forever and hanging out with me!” The powerful arms linked around Izuru’s midsection suddenly tightened their grasp, and at once Izuru felt himself lifted right off the ground.

Izuru kicked his legs helplessly in the air, accomplishing very little to absolutely nobody’s surprise. There was nothing to be done except for him to accept his fate as Renji toppled backwards onto the grass, spread on their back and with all four limbs curled protectively around Izuru’s body.

“Goodness gracious, so dramatic!” Izuru groped at the top of Renji’s head, finding a handhold on their antlers to yank as the Nature Spirit giggled mischievously. “You know, if you’re really so bent out of shape about me going, you could always come with me. Don’t you have the ability to shapeshift? You could pretend to be human.”

Now that he thought about it, Izuru still had never seen Renji ‘acting human’. But he couldn’t imagine that it would be such a dramatic shift. Renji is Renji, antlers and fangs or otherwise.

Underneath him, Renji’s body stiffened. “Ah, I don’t think I’m ready for that yet.” Their chest swelled with an unexpelled breath. “Maybe someday?”

Dutifully, Izuru did his best to sympathize. Still, he wondered if Rangiku could be coerced into visiting the forest that Izuru had made his home. Would Renji even like that, after all the effort it had taken just for Izuru to get close to them?

But pushing Renji wouldn’t do. Izuru squirmed and wiggled and rolled from on top of Renji’s chest until he coud sit up straddling the Spirit’s hips. Renji’s eyes appeared to capture sunlight, burning whiskey-red. Izuru wondered if he would ever be able to learn to see the universe in the way that comes naturally to them. The greater plan of it all. “It’s all right, love. But the sooner I go, the sooner I get to come back.”

His hand rested on top of Renji’s chest, where their hand went to cover it. They hold it over their breast, where Izuru can feel Renji’s heartbeat under his skin.

“Yeah. But, uh- when you go,”

Izuru doesn’t really want to leave. Not even for a few days, he already knew that. But the fact that Renji made it so hard is just another reason they both need to learn to be okay with it. Renji is a deity, and for them things are eternal. Izuru must also be eternal, but he must also be human.

“I never told you that whoever leaves this forest- they don’t come back.”

They don’t come back to Renji, is what they mean.

Izuru is prepared to be eternal. With his face pressed into Renji’s neck, Izuru tastes skin and sunlight on his lips. “You just try to keep me away. I dare you.”

Izuru’s universe hums under his chest, their hair spread across the grass like rays of the sun. Izuru hums back.


End file.
